Janay and Wild Bill

Janay pins him to the mat with one knee between his legs. Wild Bill's already breathing hard and she hasn't started yet. She rolls her shoulders, blonde hair swinging. The workout was an excuse, they both know that now. She strips him down without a word, loops the strap around his wrists, stretches his arms tight above his head. The rope bites. His cock jumps, thick and heavy against his stomach. She straddles his chest, her weight nothing and everything at once. Her grip is all business on his shaft, slow, then punishing. She edges him till his hips jerk and his breath catches. Every time he gets close she stops. Makes him watch. Makes him wait. "Breathe through it," she tells him. He tries. The strap digs into his wrists every time he pulls. Sweat runs down his ribs. She drags her nails across his abs, grabs him again, strokes until he groans. Every muscle in him strains, locked, shaking. Janay leans in, mouth at his ear, voice low. "Don't come till I say."